Flying True
by Gumnut
Summary: It was the core philosophy of International Rescue.


Title: Flying True

Author: Gumnut

2 – 8 Aug 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: It was the core philosophy of International Rescue.

Word count: 5571

Spoilers & warnings: Angst, injury, blood, some language

Timeline: Standalone

Author's note: Nutty's Fandomversary Fic Nine – Prompt: Scott and 'stay gold' for lightning1999 thank you for all your wonderful support :D

This one was stubborn and I had to fight like crazy. Many thanks to both scribbles and vegetacide for their patience and reading. This 'ficlet' took and entire week to write ::glares at it:: There is an optional epilogue that I might post later, but for the moment this is the entirety of the fic. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

He cradled his brother.

Virgil was limp beneath his hands, barely breathing, blood dribbling down his cheek, the remains of the bubbling cough that had sent him under.

"John, tell me the GDF are coming." His own voice was harsh in his ears.

"They're not coming."

"Please, John."

"Trust me, I have tried." His brother's voice was filled with the same desperation in his own.

"We need evac and the bastard is still here. Can't they-"

"Scott! He's done his homework, you're now in a no-fly zone. Aunt Val has them on the ground, but it is going to be over an hour."

"They can't-" I can't, I can't...

The warmth seeping out between his fingers was determined, pulsing with Virgil's heart. God, please, no.

"There is no rescue, Commander Tracy." The 'commander' came out as snarl. "Not unless you would like to invite another of your brothers to this little party?"

There were two snarls and a forceful expletive over the comm line.

"Or perhaps a sister? A grandmother would be interesting. Then there is that little mastermind of yours. I'd be very interested in meeting him."

"No...nothing." It was rasped and little more than a whisper.

"Virg, stay still." His brother's eyes were fluttering, desperately trying to open.

"Don...don't let him."

"He won't, I promise."

"And what exactly do you think you can stop me from doing?"

Scott didn't answer. The presence of his brother was the only thing stopping him from planting a fist in the bastard's face.

That and the gun that had already shot Virgil in the chest.

The call had come in just after the sun had disappeared over the horizon on Tracy Island. Tourist fallen in an abandoned gas mine in the middle of the Australian Outback.

It was pure chance that Scott had chosen to go with Virgil. It had been a rare night with just the two of them on the Island and they had been looking forward to a little alcohol and brotherly bonding. Didn't happen often.

Didn't happen tonight.

It was obviously a Thunderbird Two call out, but Scott, used to it but no less annoyed, was determined to spend the evening with his brother. Thunderbird One followed her sister off the Island and the sun rose in the west.

As per usual, Scott hit ground before Virgil, but had to wait for the green behemoth because she held the equipment needed. A jeep sat abandoned not far off. Scans of the hole in the ground revealed the single life sign John had reported.

Part of the mine had caved in.

The job required heavy lifting and Virgil donned his suit and down he went. Twenty minutes later, Scott was assisting a shaken tourist to his feet as Virgil climbed out of the hole in the ground.

The man stared up at Scott and a smirk curled his lips. "Him, I expected. You, not so much. But then that is fortunate, because you might be worth just that little bit more." And the 'victim' pulled a gun and shot Virgil point blank.

Scott would never forget the surprise on his gentle brother's face, the shock, quickly followed by the pain.

And his suited body falling back over the lip of the mine.

The suit.

The exo-suit.

Apparently, the bastard hadn't counted on that piece of hardware either.

Virgil was rigged for cave and mine rescue. His left arm came up and his built-in grapple gun fired. The target, his own 'bird. The grapple thunked and instead of plummeting into the abyss, his falling body pivoted on one foot and was dragged past his attacker, coming to rest in a heap beside Scott.

God.

He didn't hesitate, fumbling at his brother's suit, turning him over.

The neat hole in his uniform was ringed in a fast spreading halo of red.

"Shit, that hurts." More breath than anything else.

"Stay still." Virg, oh god. Ribcage. His paramedic training came to the fore. Pressure, elevate, prevent air getting into the lung cavity...

"I wouldn't bother. He is going to die. And if he doesn't, well, I'll make sure he does." The gun came up again.

"No, oh god, no, don't!" He threw himself across his brother. Please, no. How had this happened so quickly? A night of brotherly chat and now they were lying in the dust of a godawful desert with some asshole trying to kill them.

"Hmm." The gun was casually waved through the air above them. "Maybe you are right. He could be useful."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Want? Money. Simple as that. You have it, I want it. All I need is one of you and the rest will pay. Hell, the world will pay for one of the Tracy brothers. God awful saviours of humanity."

Scott didn't think it was possible to get angrier. Apparently, it was. "You lured us here with a fake rescue in order to kidnap and hold one of us for ransom."

"You've got it in one. You are billionaires, after all. A couple billion should be enough for the eldest Tracy, shouldn't it." The gun gestured in Virgil's direction. "If he lives, an extra few million wouldn't hurt."

Virgil shuddered under his hands and attempted to pull himself out of his exo-suit. His fingers brushed the buttons that released his uniform and the frame slipped off his body. A groan and he had one arm out before the gunman started waving the weapon around again. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Ne-need to breathe." It ended in a gasp and then Virgil was coughing.

Scott reacted, ignoring the threat and pulling off his brother's helmet, attempting to free him from the suit's framework.

Blood dribbled out the corner of Virgil's mouth as his eyes rolled up in his head and his body fell limp.

"Virgil!"

Elevate, pressure, prevent air from getting into the lung cavity...

He gently lifted his brother into his arms, propping him up and rolling him onto his side, his head resting against Scott's chest.

Check breathing, pulse...c'mon, Virgil, don't do this...

"Is he dead yet?"

"Fuck you."

"Hoo, the role model of a generation has a tongue on him after all." The bastard crouched down and sat back on his heels. "Oh, if you think the GDF will be coming to save your asses, think again." The man held up a control device and pressed a button. The ground rumbled and shook. The plain around them cracked in places, soil collapsing in on itself. A haze drifted across the ground. "Ah, the wonderful fragrance of hydromethane in the evening." The man smirked. "You're not going anywhere in those rockets of yours and no one is flying in." The smirk became a grin. "This abandoned mine network has just enough left to create a lovely cloud of flammable gas for your entertainment. Now, tell that Eye in the Sky brother of yours that they can have you back in mostly one piece if they transfer the money to an account number I will give you shortly."

So followed a negotiation with Thunderbird Five that sported more expletives than he had ever heard from his quiet brother. Two other brothers were looped into the conversation on delay. Gordon and Alan were on Mars chasing up that professor who had discovered the underground rivers of Mars and then promptly got himself stuck in one. Kayo's colourful expressions were launched from the far side of the Arctic circle. She was caught up with the Chaos Crew, but dropped everything immediately and was tearing across the planet as they spoke.

She wasn't going to get there fast enough.

And neither was the GDF.

"John, tell me you can get an ident on this guy."

"I've been trying. Could be a holographic mask for all the result I'm getting. Eos is hacking the GDF intelligence division as we speak."

Shit. "Be careful."

"We will do what we need to do, Scott."

He closed his eyes for just a moment.

The earth rumbled under him and suddenly everything was shaking. Metres to his left the soil collapsed and a crack opened up, gaping to the sky.

The gunman clambered to his feet. The smell of hydromethane increased. Scott coughed and Virgil's breathing staggered. Hell.

"We've got to move."

Their assailant didn't answer. He stood staring at the crack, puzzlement on his face.

The earth gave a deep-seated groan and shook again, more cracks appearing.

A blink and the dirt beneath the man's feet collapsed, taking him with it.

Scott froze for a split second before tightening his hold on Virgil and scrambling backwards as the newly formed crack tracked its way towards the two brothers. The abandoned exo-suit half slipped into the crevice.

The movement aggravated Virgil, the younger man coughing weakly into Scott's chest, crimson splattering on the blue of his uniform. "Sc-t."

"Hell, Virg, sorry. Need to get you onto Two." The gun was gone. They were free. It was the only fact registering on his mind.

"Help!"

Scott wasn't game to leave Virgil out here so he could grab a stretcher. The ground was still groaning. Moving him was going to be unsafe, but he couldn't leave his brother out here with the very ground falling around them.

But he could drag him.

"Help me! Please!"

Easing his brother into a secure grip, hands under his arms, he relied on Virgil's tough uniform to take the brunt of the abrasion and carefully began dragging his brother towards Two.

"God, please help me! I'm bleeding!"

Virgil groaned as they moved, his head falling against Scott's arm. "Sc-t needs help."

"It's okay, Virgil, we're nearly there."

"Please help me!"

"Needs help." Virgil attempted to sit up. "Sc-t needs help." His brother's voice was little more than a rasp. Blood bubbled on his lips. "Need to h-lp."

"Stay still!"

"Needs help. Got-ta h-lp." His hand came up and hit his comms. "J-hn, situation."

"Virgil!" He stopped, crouched down and gathered his brother in his arms, the man was likely suffering hypoxia. A quick check of his vitals had no good news.

"Scott, I'm reading surface instability for at least a kilometre radius." There were unspoken questions in John's words. "You need to get out of there."

"John." His voice was a harsh rasp almost as bad as Virgil's. "The bastard fell in a hole." He leveraged Virgil gently and began dragging him again. His brother was restless, muttering about help and rescue.

"God, please don't leave me!"

The nerve...Scott killed the thought as Virgil responded to the voice in the distance, again struggling to sit up. He held him firm, finally reaching down to activate his brother's holographic interface on his left arm, commanding the ship to lower its hatch.

It did so with the familiar clunk and hiss.

He dragged his brother aboard.

"Please don't!" It was faint now and once the hatch was swallowed by TB2 it was shut out.

The only sound remaining was Virgil's bubbling breath.

"Sc-t, need t-sve."

"C'mon, bro, let's get you safe."

"Safe, need to safe." Virgil's eyes were barely open, his body limp in Scott's hands.

He gently lay his brother on his side and pulled down the gurney. Activating its hoverjets and disengaging it from the wall, he lowered it to the deck and manhandled his brother on to its padded surface. A gentle motion and he redocked it.

Alarms started screeching immediately.

Oxygen, elevate, stop the bleeding, manage the air intake, watch for tension pneumothorax, get him to a hospital...

Get him to a hospital.

Thunderbird Two has something her sister did not.

She had wheels.

His brother continued to mumble, his head moving in aggravation. Scott secured him to the bed and primed the monitors to alert him to any changes.

Two steps and he was in his brother's pilot's chair. Flipping switches, he brought the giant cargo plane to life and rigged her for extended taxi.

She wasn't built for this. Taxiing on a runway, yes. Across rock strewn desert sand? Not so much. She didn't have a great deal of clearance and Virgil would likely kick his ass for the damage this little trip was going to cause, but there was no choice.

Choice.

His heart hardened.

As if reading that heart, his brother moaned. "S-tuation, need to h-lp Scott, need to help." The words faded into a bubbling cough.

Scott engaged the engines and TB2 turned her back on the danger zone. A shift in the controls and his brother's big green bird made her escape.

-o-o-o-

It took forever.

A forever punctuated by struggling breath and mumbled words that faded to unconsciousness. But as soon as the hydromethane concentration dropped below the explosive mark, Scott engaged VTOL, lifting the great ship off the abrasive desert floor. Enough clearance and the Thunderbird breathed her name as he kicked in her rear thrusters. She shot forward as if elated to be free from the godawful ground. Course allocation and their ETA shrunk from hours to minutes as they targeted the Western Australian city of Perth and her medical facilities.

Minutes.

And he was requesting landing clearance from Australian Air Control.

Minutes.

Two's great landing feet sunk into the turf of the elegant gardens in front of Royal Perth Hospital.

Minutes.

Moving his terrifyingly still brother from his cockpit to the hands of medical staff.

Minutes.

Thunderbird Shadow landing beside her sister. Kayo darting out of her 'bird, worried eyes catching his. Her gloved hand on his cheek as they turned to follow their brother into the massive hospital building.

Hours.

Plastic chairs. The inevitable media shitstorm. Police. Colonel Casey. Questions.

John appearing at his shoulder, fire in his eyes.

And finally, sudden quiet as his brother corralled him into an empty room and shut the world out.

Quiet except for the blood pressure roaring in his ears.

The soles of his uniform footwear peeled off the linoleum as he paced.

Back and forth.

"He is still in surgery." The sentence said more than it said.

"I know." John stood quietly to one side. Kayo was off organising security for their brother, terrorising hospital staff in the process.

"He just shot him." Simple words, so much pain. "For money. The bastard just wanted money."

Back and forth.

"He didn't have to shoot him. Why did he shoot him? Why?"

"I don't know."

"Well, he won't be doing it again. Our lawyers will see he pays."

"Scott-"

"God, what if Virgil doesn't fully recover? What if he can't..." No, Virg would be okay. He had to be. "I'll show the bastard exactly what that money can do."

Quiet. "Scott, he's dead."

It took a moment for John's words to register. "What?"

"Virgil's assailant died shortly after you left. The hole he fell into collapsed, he was buried and suffocated. The GDF are on recovery. It is going to take a while for the gas to dissipate. We won't be able to retrieve Thunderbird One until at least the day after - woah, Scott!"

His legs were suddenly jello and unable to support him. His heart was in his throat and breathing was impossible. His brother's hands caught him, dragging him across the room to a chair. His butt hit plastic and a pair of turquoise eyes filled his vision.

"Scott, you with me?" Cool, ever calm, John's voice was a balm.

Blink.

"I ignored him. I could have saved him."

"You had to get Virgil out. You did everything you could."

He shook his head and the world spun just that little off kilter. "No, no, I didn't. I heard him. He needed saving. But I...didn't."

Those turquoise eyes flinched. "You did what you had to do."

Voice raw. "He hurt Virgil." A swallow. "I hated him. Dad-"

No, Dad would have saved him anyway. Everyone deserved to be rescued. That was the core philosophy of International Rescue. That was what Dad believed. That was what Scott believed.

Had believed.

"John, what have I done?"

"What you had to do."

"I left a man to die."

"Virgil rescued him, Scott. The guy shot him. You have every right to refuse him. Who's to say he wouldn't have injured you as well? He broke up the gas field. He created the situation that endangered both of you as well as himself. You have no obligation to save such a person, especially when another's life is at risk as well as yours."

The words were logical, but they just didn't equate to the hole in his gut where his belief used to lie. He had been tested, sorely tested, and had failed to fly true to the mission.

He had failed.

His head dropped into his hands.

-o-o-o-

His usually bigger than life brother was so small against the white sheets. Face half hidden by an essential oxygen mask, Virgil was pale as a ghost and just as silent.

Scott sat beside his bed and simply stared at him. John sat next to him, worry emanating from the astronaut in waves.

Scott hadn't spoken an unnecessary word to John in the last hour. The taste of failure was raw and bitter in his throat and it strangled any words that tried to escape.

Virgil had made it through surgery and his doctors were optimistic for a full recovery. It would be slow and his brother would be out of action for weeks, but he would recover.

He would.

Scott reached out a hand and caught his brother's limp fingers. He brushed across familiar calluses and the cut on his palm where a screwdriver had slipped last week. Virgil had sworn a blue streak over that and scared the crap out of Gordon who had been in the hangar with him at the time.

How many people had that hand saved? How many times had it been offered in help?

Virgil wouldn't hurt a soul. Hell, the man stepped over ant trails and released insects caught in the house. He was a gentle man who only wanted to help.

That was why it hurt so much. Why Scott had turned his back on their assailant, and on everything he believed.

Not everyone was worth saving.

He closed his eyes.

"Scott?" John was ever so hesitant.

"What would you have done?"

"Exactly what you did."

He opened his eyes and turned to face John. "Why? Because he is our brother? Because he is Virgil?"

"Scott, I would have done it for anyone, especially a brother. That man forfeited his rights by breaching yours and Virgil's. You did the right thing." John grabbed his arm as if to transmit the intensity in his eyes through touch. "If you didn't, Virgil could have died and that...is not acceptable."

Not acceptable.

"Dad-"

"Is not here. Did not experience the situation. And..." An indrawn breath. "...He would have done exactly the same thing."

Scott stared at his brother, part of him desperate to believe, part of him horrified that his father might breach the golden rule.

"And what would Virgil have done?" Perhaps that is what he feared the most. The derision in his brother's eyes. The loss of faith, of trust.

"V-Virgil, would k-kick y'r ass." It was raspy and broken, but so Virgil, Scott's heart lurched. Damp eyelashes let out a glimpse of brown aimed directly at their eldest brother. The oxygen mask fogged as Virgil struggled to concentrate. "J-hn? Wh-t happened?"

"Hey, Virgil." John answered when Scott's voice stuck in his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." A slow blink, heavy with medication and sleep. "Wass wrong w- him? Whys he upset?"

"You were injured. Of course, Scott is upset. You know what he is like."

"I-diot. N-t your fault, Stupid. K-ick y-r ass."

Okay. So that was familiar, if less subtle than usual.

"Saved me. Always s-saves m-me." Those eyelids drooped, but his brother was fighting the medication.

Scott realised he still had his brother's hand in his and squeezed gently. "Rest, Virgil. You can kick my ass later."

"Will ki- y-r ass. Stup-d. Al-ways blmes yurs-lf." His words reduced to unintelligible syllables, Virgil's eyes slipped closed and he drifted off again.

"I find it very interesting that the first thing Virgil thinks of upon regaining consciousness is all about kicking your ass."

Scott didn't pick up the jibe. He stared at his unconscious brother. His fingers traced gentle circles on his limp hand

If there was forgiveness, it would be in his brother's eyes.

-o-o-o-

Time passed as it always does. Virgil grew stronger and was eventually moved out onto the ward. A private room was necessary for security and Kayo hovered like an eagle seeking prey. Virgil was better but still weak. His voice was little more than a rasp and there was pain and medication and the occasional loopy. Gordon held back his sense of humour, but there was some filming that he would no doubt be killed for later when Virgil discovered it.

Scott straightened his spine and focussed on his brother and the necessities of IR management. It worked as a distraction.

Until the day the police came to question Virgil on the incident.

Scott hauled in their lawyer from New Zealand, Jack Dunning. The short, balding, dumpy little man was a long term family attorney and had seen them through many an...incident.

They sent two police, a man and a woman. The woman was very professional. The man, however, appeared somewhat starstruck and Scott had the feeling he had jumped at the chance to meet either an IR operative or a Tracy brother, probably both.

"The victim has been identified as Mr Victor Gomez." The woman waited for a reaction.

Virgil, sitting up in bed, oxygen cannula under his nose and bags under his eyes, frowned. "Gomez? Wasn't he one of the thieves who stole FAB1 last year? I thought he was in jail."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "He was, but he had a good lawyer."

"What?" Scott felt the heat rise to his face. "The man blew up a diamond exchange!"

"The justice system is far from perfect, Mr Tracy. A fact I am sure you are well aware of." her expression was firm, but kindly and said far more than the words she spoke.

Scott's lips thinned.

"Mr Virgil Tracy." The male police officer definitely had stars in his eyes and definitely for Virgil. Scott took a step closer to the bed.

The officer blinked and took a step back.

Virgil whacked Scott on the leg and shot him a glare before turning his attention fully on the officer. "Yes, sir?"

Great, that boosted the guys confidence. Virgil was so damned polite all the time.

His leg was whacked again. "Scott, for goodness sake, sit down."

It was Scott's turn to glare at his brother, but he sat down slowly on the chair beside the bed.

"Mr Virgil Tracy, could you relay the events of the incident in question as clearly as you remember, starting from your arrival at the scene."

Scott bit his lip as Virgil's still raspy voice spoke of the rescue that led up to the shooting.

"I hauled the victim to the surface. Scott helped him out of the hole and I followed." Virgil swallowed. "I was just pulling myself out of the mine when the man said something to Scott which I didn't quite hear. He then turned with a gun in his hand and shot me."

Scott's fingernails bit into his palms.

"I'm afraid I don't remember much after that. Just fragments. The man had some demands, money? I'm not sure of the specifics. Scott..." Virgil frowned and wet his lips. "Scott was there. I remember being afraid for him. I was terrified he would be hurt." He let out a breath, blinking. Virgil straightened his shoulders as if to shake it off. "Breathing was a problem and I...faded a lot. I was pretty useless. Scott manhandled me onto Thunderbird Two and at some point, I faded out completely. Next I remember is waking up in intensive care."

"So, you don't remember the altercation between your brother and Mr Gomez?" The woman's voice was clear and precise.

Jack shot to his feet as Scott sat up straighter in his seat. Virgil's eyes widened and he paled. "What altercation? There was no altercation. Scott held onto me the entire time."

"But you don't remember, do you Mr Tracy."

Virgil paled even further, his mouth dropping open. His eyes darted towards Scott, seeking his big brother. "I-"

"You do not need to answer that, Virgil." Jack held out a hand. "No one has been accused here. A video of the events from Thunderbird Two's cameras has been submitted, Mr Scott Tracy has submitted his version of events as has Mr John Tracy. Mr Virgil Tracy is injured and even I can see you've managed to stress the man already. What is your point?"

"What we have, Mr Dunning, is an incident solely reported by one family. A very powerful family at that, who, I am sure, are used to getting their own way on all fronts. I am here to represent the law and give the victim a voice. A voice that is not drowned out by all the technology and skill of International Rescue." She spat the name, glaring at Scott the entire time.

"What the-?"

"How dare you!" It burst from his brother, harsh and pain-filled. Virgil was shaking. "We save people. I saved him and he shot me. Scott...he wanted money. He could have shot Scott and I couldn't...How dare you accuse my brother of harming that man. That is what you are saying, isn't it?" Brown eyes shot daggers at the woman, their depths lit with outrage. "My brother..." A trembling finger shot in the direction of Scott. "My brother has saved so many people. So many, many people. We saved that man and he shot me, he threatened my brother and you think Scott would attack him?!" Virgil swelled in the bed. "Scott has been castigating himself because he was unable to _save_ the guy. I've been lying here watching him beat himself up, and you have the nerve to accuse him of actually causing the man's death. Do you have any id-ea who you are talking about? This is the c-commander of International Rescue. The man doesn't have an immoral cell in his b-body." A shaky breath. "G-get out!" That trembling hand waved at the police, shunting them towards the door. "Get-t out!" A cough and Virgil was hunching over in pain as his lungs attempted to turn themselves inside out.

"Shit, Virg!" Scott was reaching for his brother. Jack was yelling at the police woman. Nurses came running.

And there followed a tense few minutes where his brother tore himself apart attempting to breathe. His hand caught Scott's and proceeded to crush every bone in it as he struggled to regain control. By the time medication relaxed him enough to calm him, he was almost transparent against the sheets.

Still he rasped out words. "Dare th-y. S-ve Scott, H-ve to save Sc-t."

"Virgil. Virgil! It's okay. I'm okay." He gripped his brother's hand in both of his own, but Virgil had fallen into a drugged haze and could no longer hear him.

"Virg, c'mon, rest." He reached out and combed his fingers through his brother's hair in a last-ditch effort to calm him.

Virgil sighed almost immediately. "Mom..." Scott continued the gentle administration and eventually the sick man fell into an exhausted doze.

God, Virg. Scott let out a breath and slowly dropped his forehead to the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

Shit.

"Scott?" A blink. Please, just a moment, please. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr Tracy."

Jack.

He sighed and pushed himself up, glancing at his sleeping brother before ushering the lawyer out of the room.

"I'm sorry, Jack." He rubbed his face.

"Understandable. I just wanted to let you know that they have nothing on you or Virgil. That woman..." He spat the word. "That woman was taking advantage of Virgil's drugged state to see if she could get any information out of him that could implicate you. Why, I'm not sure, but I am advising you that my law firm will be pressing charges on your behalf. She will never be allowed in a position to do that to anyone else ever again."

Scott blinked. Jack Dunning was one of the most level headed men he knew. It appeared that he might actually be angry.

"Jack-"

The lawyer raised a hand. "No, Scott. What she did to your brother was inexcusable. Virgil was right." He reached out and gripped Scott's arm. "You deserve so much better." A gentle squeeze and the man let go.

Scott's eyes were wide.

"Just do me a favour."

"What?"

"Look after yourself." And the man turned and left, leaving Scott standing bewildered in the corridor.

-o-o-o-

The next twelve hours were spent in the chair beside Virgil's bed. About eighty percent of that was an uncomfortable doze that left him with aching muscles and a throbbing headache.

Gordon cornered him at one point and attempted to drag him back to the hotel, but Scott refused. he had to be here when Virgil woke up. They needed to talk.

Of course, Virgil woke while he was asleep. A touch to Scott's hair and his head shot up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at him.

"Scott?" It was whispered.

"Virgil." He sat up, ignoring the crick in his neck.

"What are you doing here?" Scott had to lean in to hear what his brother was saying.

A blink. "Where else would I be?"

"In a bed, asleep." Virgil's eyes closed slowly, but opened again, the man obviously determined to stay awake. "You look like shit."

"Pot, kettle, Virg."

That brown gaze narrowed, focussing. "You did the right thing."

Scott rubbed his neck. "Oh, I don't know, my neck may never forgive me."

Those eyes closed and opened again. "No…leaving him behind. You did the right thing."

A swallow. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine."

That prompted a snort. "Really? You're going to try that while looking like that?"

Virgil almost rolled his eyes. Almost. Instead he turned his head looking around the room. "Where's John?"

Scott glanced at his watch and frowned. "Probably in bed. Unless Gordon is giving him grief. Why?"

"I need someone to kick your ass."

"Again? Really? Do I look that bad?"

A frown and it became very obvious that Virgil didn't remember the last time he had threatened to kick his butt. "You look like shit."

"This conversation is going in a circle."

"Scott-"

"Virgil, you need rest-"

"I need you to understand!" His brother's voice grated out of stressed lungs.

"Virg, for god's sake, calm down."

His brother grabbed his hand. "You did what you had to do. Stop beating yourself up for it. Dad would have done the same." A cough. "I would have done the same!"

Scott stared at him. "The man died because I left him to die."

"The man died because he was an a-asshole." His brother swallowed and winced. "We can't save everyone." Virgil's eyes squeezed shut and his hand tightened around Scott's. The bruises on his hand from the last time his brother had grabbed him made themselves known and he flinched just a little.

Virgil's eyes shot open and he frowned, staring down at his hand. He let go. "Did I do that?"

Scott grabbed his brother's hand back. "Doesn't matter."

"It matters." He tried again to let his brother's hand go, but Scott wouldn't let him, wrapping both hands around his brother's.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is you getting better so you can climb out of that bed and kick my ass yourself."

"It's all about your ass." His brother let out a sigh and his eyes closed again. This time he spoke without opening them, each word painfully enunciated. "If you had been shot, I would have done the same. I may have even done more. He wanted money and was willing to trade lives to get it." His eyes opened and caught Scott's. "I would have saved him if I could, but if it comes to a simple equation of my brother or the man who shot him...the answer will always be my brother." A slow blink. "I can't lose you, Scott. It will always be you."

It took Scott a moment to remember his brother was still heavily medicated, still only half-awake. "Virgil-"

"Scott, stop beating yourself up. You did nothing wrong. Go to bed so I can get some sleep." Another slow blink. "Y-you snore."

It was the last two words that did it more than anything his brother had said before. Two simple words so his brother it hurt.

A gentle squeeze of his hand. "Okay, Virg. You get some sleep."

"Planning on it." His eyes closed, eyelashes brushing ever so pale cheeks. "Go to bed."

He didn't move immediately, content to watch his brother slip into slumber again. Virgil's breathing evened out and his hand fell limp in Scott's fingers.

God, it had been close.

His brother or the man who shot him.

A simple equation.

Scott bit his lip.

Virgil was right.

The answer would always be his brother.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

Optional Epilogue

Stepping out into the night air was bracing and cold. The sky was clear, so the heat had been sucked out of the Earth and the air around it. Tropical islands didn't do this. Despite himself, Scott shivered.

"Bit of a nasty low temperature tonight, sir." Jeremy looked as unimpressed as Scott felt. Kayo had ordered every Tracy brother was to be accompanied by security at all times. Jeremy was on Scott tonight. Gerald at Virgil's door and no doubt Iz was around somewhere, probably lurking in the shadows ready to appear when he least expected it.

Jeremy had been with IR since its inception.

"Sorry to have you out so late."

The security guard shrugged. "Rather be out here with you than worried about you at home."

"I'm sure Ilia and the kids appreciate that thought."

Jeremy snorted. "Don't you worry about them, sir. They get a good deal."

Scott grinned. "Virgil enjoyed it as much as they did, don't you worry."

"How is he?" All joviality disappeared from the conversation.

"He will recover."

"Sir, I wish you would reconsider having security staff on the Thunderbirds."

Scott eyed him. It was a bone of contention amongst the brothers and Kayo. Perhaps it was due for a review.

"I'll look into it."

"Thank you, sir." A pause. "I just can't help but think that if myself or Iz or Gerald or any of our team had been aboard for that mission...well, sir, we would have been able to defend you."

Scott sighed. "Jere-"

Something hit him in the chest.

Jeremy grabbed him and he was fast being dragged to cover beside one of the cars parked on the sidewalk.

"Sir, are you alright?"

A shadow appeared near the entrance to the hospital, an IR logo barely visible in the dark. Iz on silent feet. "I'm fine."

A single piece of folded white paper lay on the pavement where he had been standing moments before.

"What is it?"

Another drifted into land beside it.

And another.

Within moments the air was full of paper planes, lazily cruising through the air to lie silent on the ground.

"What the hell?"

"Don't touch them, sir."

One landed at his feet.

"Sir-"

Scott reached down and gingerly picked up the plane. Barely touching it with his fingernails, he pulled and unfolded the little craft.

The IR logo had been printed on the sheet of paper.

A large red cross had been scribbled over it.

He stared at it.

The paper planes darted about landing in trees, in puddles, on the walkway leading into the hospital.

All ever so silent.

All bearing the vandalised IR logo.

Scott's shoulders dropped and he sighed.

"Better get Kayo on the line."

-o-o-o-


End file.
